Shouldn't this come with a Manual?
by Mercy19
Summary: Neo and Trinity are resurrected because Zion needs a leader for the next generation
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Neo and Trinity are resurrected because Zion needs a leader for a new generation.

Usual disclaimers: I don't own The Matrix or associated characters and I'm not making a profit.

**Shouldn't this come with a Manual?**

Trin's on the other side of the door and I'd give anything to be there supporting her. But I know this is better, waiting out here. Zion's relatively new antenatal unit is low-key, softly lit and low-tech. She'll have the full support of a midwife, but there are no c-sections, unless the baby is at risk. She has to go through this.

If I were there, Trin would be hiding how much pain she was in, determined not to let me help, not to show any perceived weakness and I'd end up being a nuisance and if anything went wrong... no, I'm not going there. So I talked her into letting Niobe be there too.

I remembered the awkwardness of knowing and not being about to speak about it. She'd seemed tired but was refusing to take it any easier or give herself a break. Typical Trin: how often do I have to remind her she's not fighting anymore?

I'd also noticed her eyes, how the whites seemed brighter, her skin seemed that little bit softer. I knew she was late too and I knew how much she'd hate me telling her. I'd get an earful for not understanding. But I do.

One morning she seemed more tired than usual. I'd finally got fed up of holding a metaphorical TNT-detonator and waiting for a good time to set it off.

I leaned back against the door, blocking her exit. "You're calling in sick."

"Am not." She stood defiantly in front of me, waiting for me to move out of the way.

"Are."

"Neo, I'm not having this childish argument." She wasn't even looking at me.

"If you won't cut yourself some slack, I'll do it for you."

"How?"

"Like this." I picked her up. A risky strategy because if Trin didn't want to be picked up, she didn't get picked up. But she yielded. I had to resist grinning. The Trinity everyone else knows will pull rank. But, on rare occasions, she'll let me support her. And on those exact same occasions, I'll fall in love with her again. Every time.

"But, we're due to..."

It wasn't much of a protest. She knew I'd have it covered. "Not today." I carried her to our sleeping quarters, laid her on the bed.

"We can't spend all day in bed..."

I raised an eyebrow. "Trin..." I'd run out of words. I'd expected a fight. Now I didn't know what to say. So I did it without words. Pushed up her tunic and opened her pants. Kissed her stomach.

"You know." I felt her stiffen.

I propped myself up alongside her. "I know."

Before I could react, she'd pushed herself up and me down on my back. Her glare burned, felt as if it were scorching my skin. "No tricks. You're beautiful. You're late. And you're tired. What else could it be?"

"Stress."

"From what? You have a bad day, you hold up the building programme by, what, a few hours? A moment's indecision means nothing. It used to mean..." I didn't have to spell it out. I knocked her elbow and caught her as she slipped against me.

After a few seconds I looked down at her. "Trin!" She looked as if she was on the brink of tears.

"I'm..."

"...scared?"

She nodded, still not trusting herself to look at me.

"I'm scared too."

"Yeah, but you're allowed to be."

I had to stop myself play-punching her in the stomach. "Because I'm not Ms Invincible. Because in around seven month's time there'll be a little pink bundle wailing, 'Wah, I want to go back. Who lumbered me with these parents!'" I knew I was grinning, couldn't help it. "And everyone's gonna be saying, 'Look, he's The One who impregnated Trinity and somehow lived.'"

She was crying with laughter.

And all I could do was hold her and hope for a daughter just like her.

* * *

I glance at my watch: seven hours already. But it's been longer than that. First babies are always late, I was told. Last night I risked some of Tank's homebrew, after all baby Trinity wasn't due for another seven days. This morning I woke up hungover in an empty bed. Cursed. Splashed water on my face before I could even look at her. Wan but defiant. I slunk out and got Niobe. Niobe told Trin she was doing great. The pair of them shut me out for another hour before coming down here.

I remembered the doubts, well, her doubts. I trusted fate or instinct or something between the both would tell me what to do. Once I came home and our quarters were quiet. I assumed Trin had got held up somewhere. I flicked the kitchen light on and almost cried out.

"Trin!"

She sat at the table with her head in her hands. "Neo." She didn't look up.

I drew up a chair next to her. "Trin, what's wrong?" I knew it sounded lame, but what else could I say?

She looked up. Her face was pale but still softened with maternity. "Baby," she held out her hands as if holding one. "What do I do with it?"

"Cuddle it. Feed it. Change its diapers. Play with it. Watch it grow up. Teach it what you know. They don't stay little forever. Take a long, deep breath and you'll be handing out dating tips and I'll be watching her break my heart. Because she will."

She shot me a look which told me that had there been anything within picking up distance that she could have picked up and thrown, I'd be nursing a sore head.

"What do you expect me to say?"

"I've never changed a diaper."

"This from the woman who docks ships, dodges Agents and delves into databases for the hell of it."

That look again.

"Why don't you go and help out at one of the orphanages?"

"I can't."

"Why not? You won't be on your own. Then you can get a diaper-changing certificate and a feeding certificate and a playing certificate..."

That look. "You don't understand."

"No, I don't." Confess first, find out what for later invariably worked with Trin. "Relax. Our baby won't know you're a complete incompetent." Though Trin and incompetent don't belong in the same sentence. "Chill. You're tired and fretting."

She giggled.

It was infectious.

She grabbed my hand and moved it to her swollen stomach. Then I felt it, a little flickering motion. I pulled my chair even closer so I could put both my arms around them both.

* * *

Niobe's standing in front of the door. It takes me several seconds to realise she shouldn't be there. I know I'm putting off looking at her face. But it's her trademark ear-to-ear grin.

"She's fine. Go and see."

"Is it...?"

"Go and see. You two make your own announcements." She beams again and leaves.

I knock gently then walk in before waiting for a reply. Of course, I go to Trin first. She's propped up on pillows, looking tired but OK. I kiss her, a deep lingering, connecting kiss. Then she nods towards the crib.


	2. Chapter 2

Summary: Neo and Trinity are resurrected because Zion needs a leader for a new generation.

Usual disclaimers: I don't own The Matrix or associated characters and I'm not making a profit.

A/N: Short chapter but longer one will follow.

**Shouldn't this come with a Manual?**

I know she's watching for even the infinitesimally smallest reaction. I fix a friendly grin and look down at, "Our son!" I lean further over. Seemingly-large brown eyes stare out at me from puce skin. A layer of dark hairs cover his crown. Mostly dark brown with just the odd hint of her blue-black. His eyes seem to have an ageless depth and wisdom, just like his mother's, even though he's less than an hour old. Maybe there's hope then: my looks, her strength. Now there's an irresistible combination. I gently pick him up and carry him over to Trin. "I thought we'd have a girl."

She smiles. "You thought we'd have a girl. Niobe's been telling me it'll be a boy since I started showing." She strokes her finger along his cheek.

His eyes look towards her. It's as if he's already figured out who the most important person in his world will be. Or maybe it's her voice. I wouldn't say anything, but I caught her talking to him before he was born.

I kiss his forehead. His eyes swivel back in my direction. "He's wonderful."

"Peter."

"Peter," I echo. Whilst I'd been coming up with a hundred and one variations on Trinity for a girl, she'd decided on Peter for a boy. "He seems to like it."

"He's going to need to be a rock. Because of you, well us, he'll be expected to lead his generation. That's a hell of a lot on his tiny shoulders." I see a flash of steel in her eyes.

Carefully cradling Peter, I lean over and kiss her. "You were this small once and look what happened. He'll handle it," I say with more confidence than I feel. Over the next few weeks he'll learn to smile, to recognise faces and begin to grasp for things. Over the next few months he'll find his feet, crawl and begin to speak. Then he'll start walking. All by his first birthday. It's awesome. But he won't be alone. He'll never grow up with that strange feeling of not being fully awake. Never know that urge to search out, try to find meaning within code or feel alone despite being surrounded by people. My heart swells. I blink rapidly.

Peter's eyes crinkle.

Trin takes him from me. "I've learnt this much: that's a warning sign he's about to cry."

"He looks tired."

"I'm not surprised, given what we've just been through."

"I know." I brush my lips on his forehead, then hers. "The pair of you are amazing."


	3. Chapter 3

Summary: Neo and Trinity are resurrected because Zion needs a leader for a new generation.

Usual disclaimers: I don't own The Matrix or associated characters and I'm not making a profit.

**Shouldn't this come with a Manual?**

**Chapter 3**

Trin's working her butt off. Well, we all are. I've been debugging new software modules. Difference is I take my breaks, she mostly works through. I keep trying to tell Trin she doesn't have anything to prove. But she is still convinced that she has to prove she's still a top class engineer and programmer. It was scary watching her drive herself in two hour bursts around Peter's feeds. Even now he's weaning, she's not let up. Sometimes I wonder what she's so scared of.

My break, so I drop by at the nursery. A godsend for mothers like Trin whose skills are too important for them to take too much time out on maternity leave. The nursery staff welcome parents to drop by during lunches. I guess the more pairs of hands they have, the better. The new Zion needs everyone doing what they're most skilled at and that's mostly rebuilding and repairing, leaving those skilled in teaching and childcare to bring up the next generation.

I used to wonder what drove people to have children during the war, thinking only how selfish it seemed to bring up a child knowing you couldn't guarantee being there for it. Now I think I understand: it offers a chance to live on, a chance that if it doesn't happen in your lifetime, that your children will know peace. And Peter and his peers will only know peace. I look down at him. He'll have to carry the secret of the Truce that was brokered, have to ensure that peace endures. That's a huge burden. But I feel sure the little guy'll grow up to carry it.

Peter's stretched on his back with his arms flung out, hands loosely gathered into fists, fast asleep. I wish Trin were here: just watching the regular rise and fall of his chest might relax her. Every night I'm massaging tension out of her shoulders.

"He should be waking soon."

I turn to look at the matron who reminds me of The Oracle and seems to carry a faint, lingering scent of cookies with her. She's ancient but helps oversee the nursery. "You might give him a nudge. Otherwise he won't sleep tonight."

"He will. Apparently we've been very lucky."

"Yes, boys are usually the worst. But he seems to have settled into routine."

I reach over and wriggle my index finger in one of Peter's fists. "It's Trin's sleep I'm more worried about."

"It takes a village to raise a child. But that one expects to do everything herself."

Peter begins to stretch and yawn, a prelude to waking up.

"I know. Took me a while to persuade her to stop swaddling him up and carrying him around everywhere now he's been weaned. Sometimes I have to remind her I'm his dad and responsible too."

Matron nods. "While he was solely breastfed it made sense, but now he can gasp and reach for things, it's too dangerous. It's not good for him either."

"I worry about the example that she's setting." I scoop Peter up and hold him against me, his head nestling on my shoulder.

He makes a protesting cry, then realises it's me and settles. I pass him his favourite soft toy: a white rabbit. "Da." He's begun making the beginning sounds of words.

"She doesn't. Other mothers watch her in amazement but know they can't keep up. But you need to keep at her. Peter needs what you're doing now. And he needs her."

"But I'm not doing anything."

"You're doing the best thing for him: being there."

Peter is trying to stuff as much of his rabbit's ear in his mouth as possible.

"I think he's hungry."

Matron nods. "Never underestimate the importance of just holding him, watching him." She goes off to warm up some already pureed vegetables.

I carry Peter off to the bathroom, change his diaper and clean us up before taking him to the dining area. I wrap a large napkin around him and balance him on my leg, holding him steady with one arm while I use the other hand to shovel food in. We've had lots of practice so I know how much he'll take from one spoon.

I love these moments when I seem to be able to do something for him. At the same time I can watch him. The staff say he'll be an engineer: loves taking things apart but not yet putting them back together. Anything with buttons or keys to press is irresistible to him. And he has Trin's ability to appear to be staring into space, but be actually observing and taking everything in. I love him because he reminds me of her.

* * *

I hear Peter crying in his room. Trin's face is thunder as she leans against the door frame. And all I've done is come home. I'd even warned her I was unusually running late. I rapidly re-play this morning: nothing unusual. So whatever's triggered Trin isn't my fault.

"Trin...?"

"I've fed him, played with him, bathed him, changed him. He won't go to sleep. He keeps crying. I've spent twelve hours surrounded by other people. I need a break," she spits out.

"Fine. I'll go." I go and pick him up. He gurgles and puts his arms around my neck. I stay in his room. "You've wound your mom up, little guy. Lay off for a while, huh?"

I hear Trin stomping up and down. I can't hear, but I know she's cursing under her breath.

"You and I are going to stay here for a while..."

She smoulders in the doorway that I forgot to shut. "Fine, take his side." Her jaws are that tense she can't even grind her teeth.

"I'm not taking his side."

"He should be asleep."

"He wants company."

"Does it have to be mine?"

I look from tensed-up Trin to chilled-out Peter. "Son, you should be asleep." I put him down and wriggle his white rabbit on his chest. "Mom and I need to talk."

She walks towards our room.

I steer her to the kitchen. I hear Peter gurgle as she slams the door.

"This is driving me insane." She turns, accusatory and folds her arms across her chest.

She looks so beautiful, my breath catches. I know she hates it, but she's still a little maternity-softened. Her eyes glint. I want... I kiss her. For a split-second I fall into the trap of thinking I just might succeed in kissing the fierceness out of her. For a split-second. She pummels my chest. I count to five and catch her wrists.

"You don't get it!"

I wait for her to look up, grateful that looks can't actually kill. "I do get it." I don't, but I'm not giving her that satisfaction. I hazard a guess, speaking slowly so I get chance to think. "You left early this morning. You've had a day of frustrations. I was running late so you picked Peter up. He's not settled. He's wanted you. So you've not had a break. Simply because your son's wanted you outside a convenient timeslot."

"It's not like that," she spat.

"But it is." I kiss her forehead and get a glare. "He's not the only one. I don't like feeling I have to book an appointment." I look at her.

Her arms are still folded. She breaks eye contact.

"I'm not getting at you. He's ten months old. He's figured out we're the two most important people in his world and he doesn't like it when we leave."

Silence. Almost loud enough to drown Peter's crying. But I can't go to him without her.

"Trin, I know you've had to be independent, maintain distance. The hardest part of falling in love, wasn't love, but what would happen if I got killed. You'd already lost so many friends. How could you let yourself become dependent on someone else? You did it for me. You can do it again for Peter."

She shrugs her shoulders and picks at the hem of her sweater, as if she'll find the answer there.

Peter's still wailing, that tired-but-I'm-damned-if-I'll-go-to-sleep cry.

"Come on." I steer her into Peter's room and shut the door behind us.

He'd pulled himself up on his feet and was clinging onto the side rail. Seeing us both he gulps and lands on his behind, starting a fresh spurt of tears.

Despite herself, Trin smiles and picks him up.

He flings his arms around her neck.

I slump against the door, suddenly exhausted.


	4. Chapter 4

Summary: Neo and Trinity are resurrected because Zion needs a leader for a new generation.

Usual disclaimers: I don't own The Matrix or associated characters and I'm not making a profit.

**A/N **delay in posting this chapter came about due to a house move and the hassle of getting back on-line.

**Shouldn't this come with a Manual?**

As Trin fusses over Peter, I go to the kitchen and begin heating up some rice and chopping vegetables. A stir-fry will have to do tonight.

I can't hear what Trin's saying, but I can hear the murmur of her voice and Peter gurgling in response.

I remember once waking to Peter crying not long after we'd gone to bed. By the time I'd mumbled a curse, Trin had already gone. When I woke up again, daylight was creeping in. I went to Peter's room. Trin was dozing but looked up when she heard me. Peter was asleep, his mouth closed round Trin's pinkie. She smiled and beckoned me over. She slid her finger out and grabbed mine, guiding it in Peter's mouth and rubbing it along his lower gum.

"Ow!" I'd snatched my finger back again, swallowing a curse.

"He's cut his first tooth," she couldn't hide the pride in her voice.

"You've been with him all night?"

"It's OK." She stood and gently placed Peter, who remained asleep, in his cot. "I wanted to stay with him."

I looked down at him. "First tooth. He'll be wanting proper food instead of pureed glop soon."

She grinned, stifling a giggle, and slipped an arm around my waist.

"Someone's joining us for dinner, tonight," Trin announces. She sits Peter in his high chair. I know from the way he's grinning that they've made up. "Smells good," she says, not looking in my direction at all. Having sat Peter in his high chair and taken her place at the table, she's too busy running two fingers around the high chair table. Peter bounces his now rather grey, much-repaired rabbit after them. Both collapsing into giggles when Trin lets the rabbit catch her.

As I turn my attention back to the stir-fry, I remember a time when Peter, in his high chair, had got hold of a tissue and was busy ripping it to shreds while I was clearing up. Trin caught us and I thought she'd be furious at the shredded mess.

Surprisingly, she'd picked up a pinch-full of ripped tissue and scattered them like flakes. "Snow," she said.

"No," Peter tried to copy her.

"Snow," she said again. "I know." She found a sheet of cardboard from our recycling bin, some glue and cotton wool balls.

"Sno," Peter's second attempt was better.

Trin had put the glue brush in Peter's hand and was guiding him as he glued the cardboard. Then she scattered tissue flakes over the glue. Peter copied: if I was doing it, he'd have used his left hand, but, copying Trin, he used his right.

I'd left them to it.

By the time I'd returned, Trin was building a snowman from cotton wool balls.

"Snowman," Peter told me.

Trin looked up. "How do I make a hat?"

"More cardboard?"

She shook her head. "Too heavy. Could you paint one of those really small yoghurt pots black?"

I fetched one of the yoghurt pots we used to feed Peter when he began weaning and painted it black, keeping it out of Peter's reach.

Trin finished the snowman. "Wait for the glue to dry. Then I'll try the hat."

Later than night I caught her checking both paint and glue were dry, then trying to put the black yoghurt pot upside down on the snowman's head. "I used to be a highly qualified engineer."

"You still are. How many moms could make a snowman just like that?"

She giggled. "I feel a bit silly."

"Don't you go all self-conscious on me. Peter will love it."

"He'd better."

"He will."

I put a plate in front of Trin. "Mom needs to eat now."

"Thanks," she says.

I sit and begin eating.

"Rabbit eat." Peter knocks his rabbit flat on its face. Then leans over so that his eyes are level with the toy as if he's checking the rabbit is eating.

"We need to talk," I tell Trin.

"Later," she says.


	5. Chapter 5

Summary: Neo and Trinity are resurrected because Zion needs a leader for a new generation.

Usual disclaimers: I don't own The Matrix or associated characters and I'm not making a profit.

**Shouldn't this come with a Manual?**

**Chapter 5**

Peter's fallen asleep so I ease him out of his chair and carry him and rabbit back to his cot. I lay him down as gently as possible so as not to wake him up and put rabbit in grabbing distance. I stroke his cheek. He still doesn't wake. I lean on a side rail, which we'll have to take off soon. Trin caught him trying to climb out a couple of days ago.

"He looks even more like you when he's asleep," Trin says in mock-complaint.

"Must have your brains, then." I didn't hear her come in. She stands beside me but not close.

"I was going to say something about how proud I am of both of you, but you don't seem to be in the mood."

Without looking up, I know she's watching me, not Peter. "Sorry, Trin. You know I didn't mean..."

"I'm not sure I do."

Inwardly I groan. This is all going wrong. She's gone on the defensive already and to put my arm around her I'm gonna have to move closer to her first. And I'm that tired, it's taking all my concentration to stay awake. But she knows that. She knows me better than I do myself. "Trin..." and stop. What did I want to say? If I say I'm worried about Peter, she'll point out how well he's doing, how happy he is at nursery and how wonderful everyone thinks he is. If I say I'm worried about her, she'll clam up and we won't get anywhere.

She shrugs and turns to move away.

I catch her waist. "Are you really proud of both of us?" A gambit: please Trin, let us talk.

She sighs. "Yes." She gives me a tug.

I get the hint and we move out of Peter's room. "What was all that about earlier?" I quietly shut the door.

She hesitates in front of our room. "Earlier?" She had her back to me and now half-turns.

I lean my back against the wall. She can see me in profile. "When I came home."

"Oh, that," she says dismissively. "Went a bit stir crazy, is all."

I wait.

"You know how it is."

Mentally I guess: you left early hoping to get an immense amount of work done, people kept interrupting with what to you are trivial questions, you get little of your own work done, you feel as if you're behind schedule - that's the schedule you've set yourself, not the actual re-building schedule - then pick Peter up from nursery and he won't settle because his wants his mom. But I want to hear it from her. That makes it sound like I'm after a confession, but I don't want to make it sound like I'm judging her. I want her to slow down. A burnt-out Trin's no use to anyone. "Maybe we should have met up for lunch."

"Neo?"

I've surprised her now. She's turned to fully face me. "Well, you might have to scale back your schedule a bit so you actually take a lunch break, but why not?"

"OK."

She sounds hesitant and intrigued. I expand the idea, thinking as I'm talking. "We were at war when we fell in love. You rescued me, I rescued you. But the only time we had together was inbetween preparations for battles. Everything took on an urgency. When we were together, it was like, how fast can we lose everyone else, how fast could we take each other's clothes off."

She smiles: she remembers.

"Now we're in a post war baby boom. The urgency is still there, but the pressure and tension of war is off. You managed to relax enough to get pregnant. I need you as much now as I did then. That's not changed. That will never change."

"But we have. We have Peter now." She moves closer, watching my face. "But I still don't see what all this has to do with us meeting up for lunch."

I pull her closer, rub noses. "Everything. We never got chance to romance each other. When have I ever taken you out to dinner?"

She giggles. "I guess glop on the Neb doesn't count. Oh, Neo."

I'm looking into the depths of her blue eyes. My lips brush hers, returning to tease her mouth open for a kiss.

"But this isn't just about lunch, right?"

Right now it is. I want to carry her though to our room. I sigh. "Sort of."

She shoots me a look that tells me I'm not going to get away with that.

"OK. Working flat out on the Neb made sense. But I want... no, I'd like you to think about pacing yourself now we're at peace."

She looks at Peter's door and takes a step back.

I let my arms fall back to my sides.

"You don't understand."

"Just shift down half a gear."

She purses her lips. "Before Peter I was a top class engineer, ranking officer in Morpheus's absence, well-respected hacker and destined to fall in love with the man who would broker peace with the machines. Now I'm Mom. I had to take a break from being Trinity. I feel like I'm forever trying to catch up with myself. Code I used to be able to write with my eyes shut, now takes me twice as long. Not because I can't do it, but because I'm out of practise. Got lost in the engineering docks the other day because things have been moved around while I was at home with Peter. Have you any idea how embarrassing it is having to ask your way round an area you used to be able to walk around blindfolded? Do you know how valued it makes me feel that no one bothered to tell me the stores had been relocated?"

"Yeah." I could see that. "But whose embarrassment are you feeling? No one's expecting you to remember everything."

She stares into the distance: I've said the wrong thing.

"Trin," I soften my voice. "You're still a top class engineer. You're still a well-respected hacker. You've not lost your rank. You're still Ms Invincible. You're Trinity and Peter's Mom. In fact you're the only mother the nursery staff refer to by name. All the others are so-and-so's mom. You've not lost, you've gained."

She looks at me again. Her eyes x-raying into the depths of mine, checking I'm not just saying what she wants to hear. "You never said any of this before."

"I didn't know you needed to hear it."

She nods. "Now I see where the lunch idea is coming from."

"It's a date, then." I try not to show the relief I feel.

"It's a date." Her expression softens into a smile. That smile. The one she knows I can't resist.

I pull her close, kiss her, breathe in her scent. "Oh, Trin." I pick her up and carry her to our room.


	6. Chapter 6

Summary: Neo and Trinity are resurrected because Zion needs a leader for a new generation.

Usual disclaimers: I don't own The Matrix or associated characters and I'm not making a profit.

**Shouldn't this come with a Manual?**

**Chapter 6**

The lunch dates seemed to be working. Well, for our love life if not for our diets. Getting back to our quarters to bolt down gloop (always a useful back-up even though food production was efficiently running), then bed with the luxury of not worrying our love making would wake Peter. I noticed Trin was starting to bloom again.

"You got something to tell me?" I asked during one break. She was curled against me in that not-quite-asleep-not-fully-awake daze.

"You already know."

"True." I felt myself smile. "But you seem more relaxed about it."

"I know what I'm letting myself in for. The kindergarden teachers love Peter."

I knew I was grinning with pride and couldn't help it. He'd be three soon and was the only toddler anyone seemed to know who could sit down and listen to a story from start to finish. But he loved stories. Trin used to make up stories and sometimes told him stories about who we met and what life on the Neb had been like in place of a bedtime story. Trouble is, there weren't that many stories that weren't about the War. Half-remembered nursery rhymes and fairy tales had been illustrated by nursery staff. But we were too busy rebuilding a city to worry about rebuilding a civilisation. We needed power, food, medicine, child care and transport. Libraries would have to wait.

"I'd like a girl this time."

Trin smiled. "You wanted one last time."

"Thought a male dominated household suited you," although I knew she did the dominating.

She grinned. "Maybe I'd like someone to show me how to do make-up and dresses occasionally."

"You're softening in your old age."

She sat astride me. "No, hormones."

"Trin..."

She kissed me. "Besides, I think it's a girl this time."

This was a woman obsessed by facts, who could absorb reams of data, who didn't go by feelings.

She must have caught my expression. "I went by my feelings for you."

"Eventually," I reminded her. "When do we tell Peter?"

"Later. But before we tell anyone else or they start guessing."

* * *

I was only half-watching Peter. He was building a tower of blocks and knocking them down. Then building the tower again. So it took me a while to realise he was using the toy helicopter Morpheus had given him. The helicopter had replaced the very much worn out rabbit. 

I started playing him more attention. He built the tower block easily: he'd seen plenty of building sites in his short life. Now he was building a second block. He held the helicopter just above the first block as if it was hovering. Then he moved the helicopter, not up to meet the top of the second tower, but down so the helicopter was impacting two thirds from the top of the building.

He did it again. But I noticed now that he held the helicopter one handed. His other hand followed the helicopter but slightly lower. His index finger stuck out. As he hit his toy helicopter against the tower, his finger impacted fractionally later. It was as if his free hand was linked to the helicopter's motion. As if his index finger represented something dangling from the helicopter.

I sat down on the floor nearer to him.

"Can Dad help build the tower?"

"OK."

I started piling blocks up.

"No, here." Peter pointed at the floor, indicated that the two blocks had to be opposite each other.

"OK."

"Gotta be tall."

We built the tower. I watched him hover the helicopter, then move it to crash into the second tower, his free hand following below.

"What's that below the helicopter?"

"Mom."

"Mom?" I knew I couldn't hide my "wtf?" expression.

"Yeah." He shot me look of exasperation.

I tried a different tack. "Why's Mom below the helicopter?"

"That's what Morpheus said."

"What else did Morpheus say?" I made a mental note to suggest to Morpheus he shouldn't be telling Peter stories about his parents being in danger. But even as I thought it, I knew it would fall on deaf ears.

"The nasty Agents had got him. They wanted him to give up the codes for Zion. But Mom and you rescued him. Morpheus and you were on the rooftop. Mom was in the helicopter. The engine broke. The helicopter crashed. Mom was under. You pulled her up."

And got her beginning to think I might be The One. I shrugged. "Morpheus tells a lot of stories."

"He doesn't." Peter put down his helicopter.

"He doesn't?"

"He tells different bits of one story."

I puzzled over this. How would Peter know the fragments came together as one story? For some in Zion, the War was all they could talk about. It was a coherent past. A shared history. Easier to re-run than face an uncertain future. And it was no use telling Morpheus kids weren't adults. Peter would take the stories more literally than an adult would. But if Peter was going to hear that his parents were at war and nearly didn't survive, I guess Morpheus was the best person to tell it. He'd take the melodrama out.

But I also felt guilty. Trin and I should be telling him.

"You know what happened next?"

Peter nodded. "Mom and Morpheus got back to the Neb. You had to fight the Agents."

"You know we had to fight to make peace?"

I didn't get an answer. We both heard Trin come in.

She sniffed. "Typical boys. Build towers, knock them over, leave Mom to pick up." She sat next to Peter, hugged him and smiled at me. "Shall I help you build it up again?"

Peter nodded.

Trin looked at me. "Niobe's guessed." She turned to Peter, stroking his cheek so that he'd have to look up at her. "Peter you're going to have a sibling - a brother or sister. Not yet, but soon..."

"A baby?" He was still looking at Trin, who nodded. "I want a sister. Can I call her Story?"

"We'll see," said Trin softly, and all those years of hiding her real feelings paid off as she kept an admirably straight face.


	7. Chapter 7

Summary: Neo and Trinity are resurrected because Zion needs a leader for a new generation.

Usual disclaimers: I don't own The Matrix or associated characters and I'm not making a profit.

**Shouldn't this come with a Manual?**

**Chapter **7

Peter had grown bored with crashing his helicopter into tower blocks. He'd moved on. We'd moved on. Trin was in that awkward third trimester where her walk had a slight, very slight (if she knows I'm even thinking this, she'll kill me) waddle, she created a mountain of pillows every night and still insisted she wasn't comfortable and Peter and I were layered in sweaters as she'd leave the air con running.

Peter built space ships from blocks and had imaginery conversations with the imaginery crews. We all waited for Trin's due date to get closer and reminded each other of our plan, such that it was. At Trin's signal, I'd get Niobe. She'd go with Niobe. I'd look after Peter and wait for Trin's call.

On the day before, I was buried in debugging when Trin called to say she was with Niobe and could I pick up Peter. So Peter and I ended up in the waiting room of the maternity unit, waiting for Niobe to come out and tell us we could go in.

"Can we go home now?"

I understood the question. He had no toys, he was bored. "Not yet. We've gotta wait for your sib."

Peter made a face. "Can't it hurry up?"

I resisted smiling. It was a question I couldn't allow myself to ask. "You took ages. We've not been here long." An hour and counting, which meant Trin had already been in labour for three hours.

"Long enough." He stood up and walked from me towards the door and back again, counting his steps, "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, twelve, thirteen, fourteen."

"What's wrong with eleven?"

"What's eleven?"

I counted.

He repeated, walking a step for each number.

Just when I thought he got it right, he skipped eleven again. He kept going for several minutes. My thoughts slipped to Trin, hoping it really was easier second time round.

"Dad." Peter stopped in front of me.

I looked at him, my mind still with Trin.

"Dad, what's The Matrix?"

Everything stopped.

At least, that's what it felt like. I couldn't feel my heart beat. I couldn't hear anything except a kinds rushing noise that you get when you sink underwater. I could still see Peter, but it was like there was a large, thick pane of glass between us. If I reached out, I couldn't touch him.

Then Zion seemed to shimmer as if there was a glitch.


	8. Chapter 8

Summary: Neo and Trinity are resurrected because Zion needs a leader for a new generation.

Usual disclaimers: I don't own The Matrix or associated characters and I'm not making a profit.

**Shouldn't this come with a Manual?**

**Chapter 8**

"Neo!"

"Dad!"

"Neo!"

"Woah." I heard the sound of my own voice before I realised I'd said anything.

"Neo. Steady now."

I was in the recovery position. Niobe was looking at me with her usual 'what the hell did Trinity see in you?' expression. I pushed myself to sit up. The room stayed still. I knew where I was, in the waiting room.

"See," Niobe hugged Peter. "He's OK."

Peter gave her that 'don't adults move in mysterious ways, but everything's OK now' look.

"Trin?" I asked.

Niobe smiled. "She's OK. I came out to say 'Congratulations' and found you passed out. Are you taking Peter in or should I hang around for a while?"

"I'll take Peter in." I stood up. I felt lightheaded but otherwise OK. "Thanks. Thanks for all you've done for us."

Niobe looked down at Peter. "I think Dad needs to catch up on some sleep. So no keeping him awake tonight."

"OK." Peter looked at me. "Can we go in now? I want to see Mom."

I nodded and extended my hand. He took it. I was about to thank Niobe again when I realised she'd gone. "Don't tell Mom, OK? She'll only get worried."

"OK," Peter drew the word out as if it was so obvious he wasn't going to tell Trin I shouldn't have bothered asking.

We went in. Trin was propped up on pillows looking worn but grinning infectiously. She held a bundle swaddled in blankets.

Peter ran to her. "Is that my sister?"

I hung back.

Trin raised an eyebrow at me.

"Niobe didn't say anything. He wanted a sister, remember."

Trin lowered the bundle so Peter could see.

I moved closer and stood behind him. I could only see a puce-coloured face with grey-blue eyes and Trin's cheekbones. "She's gorgeous," I blurted involuntarily.

"Trinitina," said Trin softly.

"Yuk!" Peter screwed up his face. "She doesn't say anything."

Trin smiled patiently. "You didn't talk when you were a baby. She has to learn how to talk. You can show her by telling her stories."

"I wanted her to tell me stories." Peter moved away.

"She will do when she's older." I took the opportunity to kiss Trin, reassure myself she was OK. We'd agreed she'd stay in the maternity unit for at least a day to give herself chance to recover and bond with Trinitina before coming home to Peter's demands. Her expressive eyes told me everything was fine. "Ready to go home?" I asked Peter.

"Ready." He came back and had another look at his sister. He reached out and stroked a finger along her nose. "Grow up fast. I want lots of stories," he told her.

Trin and I exchanged 'maybe this is OK' glances. Neither of us had knowingly had siblings so this was uncharted, guessed at territory.

Back at our quarters I gave Peter a meal. "What do you think of your sister?" I asked as I sat next to him.

"She doesn't do anything." He shrugged.

"She will when she grows."

"H-m," Peter took a mouthful. "She better not break my toys."

"She won't." Hoping that by the time she had sufficient manual dexterity, he would have forgotten me saying it.

"Can I have a bedtime story?"

"'Course." I knew I wasn't going to get him to bed without one.

"Can you tell me a story about The Matrix?"


	9. Chapter 9

Summary: Neo and Trinity are resurrected because Zion needs a leader for a new generation.

Usual disclaimers: I don't own The Matrix or associated characters and I'm not making a profit.

**Shouldn't this come with a Manual?**

**Chapter 9**

Peter was looking at me expectantly. Cornered with no "ask your mother" get-out, I had to sit and tell a two year old a story I'm not sure I fully understand.

"Once upon a time." I shifted my weight on his mattress and put my hand on his shoulder. He snuggled next to me. "It was thought to be the year 1999. I was working as a software developer and hacker, living on my own with the feeling that things somehow weren't right. I was looking for someone called Morpheus who could tell me what The Matrix was."

It was as good a beginning as any. And one I had to start with every night for the next year. And thereafter at least once a week. Sometimes Trinitina joined us. As they grew, Peter looked more like me, Tina like her mother.

Peter became creative, making pictures, sculptures, writing stories or lyrics - he was a good musician too. Mainly because he knew who to ask to teach or mentor him. He could read people. As I'd taught myself to read code in The Matrix and could see when I was being deceived, Peter could do it with people. He could detect when someone's visible body language and speech was in conflict with what they were thinking or what they felt in their heart of hearts.

Tina was sporty. Quickly conquering and tiring of basketball, football, baseball, any team games, she took up martial arts with the same dedication and determination that got her mother into the IRS database.

His brain, her strength: Trin and I couldn't have been prouder parents. Somehow, we'd got this right. Two almost adult children who shared our values. Peter studied architecture of cyber systems as well as buildings. Tina was headed for Zion Defense. Those of us who remembered The Matrix thought of them as military police. But to those of Peter and Tina's generation, Zion Defence were peacekeepers. They police both Zion and Zion's defenses and prepared for real and virtual battles.

But they would never tired of hearing how their Mom and Dad met and of the war against machines.

* * *

A/N: a wrap-up chapter that sees them to adulthood but leaves the option of returning and adding more. The initial intention was to write a 'Neo and Trinity have a baby' story that grew from there. But pressures of time and other deadlines have made it difficult to build this story so there's no current intention to take it further. Thanks for reading! 


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